He slid his cock through the sweaty hollow, the head popping out the front near her collarbone before dragging back down into the depths. The musk of her armpit was intoxicating, a concentrated dose of her womanhood that he inhaled with every stroke.
Schlick. Schlick.
The sound was obscene... skin sliding against sweaty skin. But to Lyra, dazed and naive, it was just the sound of vigorous healing.
"Tighten it," Sol growled, slapping her shoulder. "Squeeze harder, Aunt. Don't let the tool slip."
Lyra whimpered, using her lat muscles to clamp down on the foreign object gliding against her sensitive skin. She had no idea it was a cock; she just felt a hot, rhythmic rod working out the stiffness in her shoulder, sending confusing, sharp jolts of pleasure through her side.
"It feels... hot," she moaned. "It burns, Sol! Is it working?"
